


It's Crumpet!

by therumjournals



Category: New Girl
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Yuletide 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therumjournals/pseuds/therumjournals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jess tries to convince her roommates to join her in a part-time job at the mall’s Santa Meet ‘n Greet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Crumpet!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_q](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/gifts).



“What are you doing?”

Jess smirked as she set down her green pen. She’d noticed Nick glancing at her every few seconds for the past ten minutes and had been wondering how long it would take him to give in to his curiosity.

“I’m filling out an application.” She picked up her red pen and wrote “highly-qualified.”

“I thought you had a job,” Nick said, dropping whatever book he’d been pretending to read and coming to look over her shoulder.

“I do. This one is just for a little added income on the weekends. Plus, it sounds fun!”

“What are you guys doing,” Schmidt asked, wandering into the kitchen. (Conversations in their apartment often tended to accumulate participants in this way). 

“Jess is filling out an application to get some extra income on the weekends.”

“Oh yeah? Where?”

“Hooters,” Jess said with a straight face. She set the red pen down and picked the green one up again. “Hey! Stop looking at my boobs!”

Nick and Schmidt both whipped their heads back up, clearing their throats.

“You’re kidding, right?” Nick asked.

“Why, you think I’m not qualified? Aaaand, you’re looking at my boobs again.”

“Sorry, sorry! To be fair, you’re making it very difficult!”

“Making what difficult?” Winston asked as he joined them in the kitchen.

“Not looking at Jess’s breasts,” Schmidt informed him helpfully.

“Excuse me?”

“She’s applying to Hooters.”

“See!” Nick and Schmidt both yelled triumphantly as Winston’s eyes automatically dropped to Jess’s chest.

“You’re all pigs,” Jess sighed. 

“We’re men,” Schmidt corrected.

“Anyway, I’m not applying to Hooters. I’m filling out an application to work as an elf at the Santa Meet ‘n Greet in the Galleria.”

“That would explain why you’re writing your answers in alternating red and green ink,” Nick said, looking over her shoulder. “Very festive.”

“Thank you.”

Winston leaned over her other shoulder. “Highly qualified, excessively merry, knows the lyrics to every Christmas song, even the obscure verses,” he read.

“I still say you should have gone for Hooters,” Schmidt said.

Jess dropped her pen, struck by inspiration. “Oh my god, you guys should _totally_ apply to be elves with me!”

“No.”

“Hell, no.”

“Jewish.”

“Awww, come on, you guys! It’ll be so much fun!” She looked at Nick. “Come on, Nick. You’d make a _great_ elf!”

“I don’t think so, Jess. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m somewhat lacking in the ‘merry’ department.”

“Which is all the more reason that you _need_ this!”

“Nah, I think I’m good.”

Jess narrowed her eyes. For some reason, now that the idea had entered her mind, she felt compelled to figure out exactly what it would take to get each of them to agree. 

“Just think how much material you could get! For your writing!”

“I’m writing a zombie novel, Jess. I don’t really see what that has to do with the whole mall Santa experience.”

“Be creative, Nick! Christmas Night of the Living Dead! The Walking GingerDead! Twelve Days of Christmas Later!”

“…wow. I’ve gotta say, you’re way more familiar with the zombie genre than I would have guessed.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“Ugh, _fine_ , whatever.”

Jess did a little jump of joy before moving on to the next target.

“Schmidt?”

“Unless I can wear a yarmulke and prayer shawl, I’m afraid I will have to decline.”

“Are you sure? Think of all those suburban housewives you’ll be able to hit on…plus, elves get a 20% discount at any store in the mall for the entire month of December.”

“Wait, does that include BOSS, by Hugo Boss?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, I’ll do it. Give me the sparkly red pen.”

Jess handed it to him.

“Winston?”

“Hmm, let me think. I could spend my weekends blissfully lounging around in an empty apartment, or I could spend it stuck in a department store surrounded by crying children and bombarded with annoying Christmas music on a loop. Let me think about that one,” Winston finished, crossing his arms.

“I’ll bake you cookies.”

Winston gave her the side-eye. “Peanut butter?”

“Yes.”

“Will you put Hershey’s kisses on top?”

“Of course.”

Winston bit his lip. 

“ _And_ I’ll make snickerdoodles.”

Winston caved. “Okay, I’m in,” he said, throwing his hands up and reaching for an application. Jess grinned and went to get some more red and green pens, sneaking a victorious fist pump along the way.

***

Their “interview” lasted less than five minutes and was conducted by a grumpy balding man behind a fold out table in a back room at the mall.

“Hi, my name is Jessica Day,” Jess said perkily, smiling her most elf-like smile and adjusting the Santa hat she’d worn for the occasion. It said “Jess” in sparkly letters across the front, with the “J” slightly smudged . She could still remember the day she’d gotten it – she’d been so excited that she’d reached up to touch the glittery letters in awe before the glue had even dried. Unfortunately, she’d told Nick that story on their way to the mall. He’d thought it was adorable and asked how old she’d been, and she’d been embarrassed to admit that it happened three years ago when she and Cece went to Disneyland over Christmas break. 

Mr. Grumpy was staring at her with an eyebrow raised, waiting for her to continue. 

“I would like to be an elf, please.”

“Fine. Sign this and go over there to get measured for your outfit.”

“Really, that’s it?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I mean, isn’t there some sort of audition process?”

“ _Jess!_ ” Nick hissed behind her.

She ignored him and continued. “Don’t you want me to show you what kinds of skills I can bring to the position?” She adjusted her hat slightly and broke into a song and dance routine that she’d practiced that morning in the shower. “ _Ohhhhhhhhhh…Dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh, o’er the hills we go, laughing all the way, HA HA HA!_ ” 

Schmidt nudged Winston. “Please tell me she’s not doing the Gangnam Style dance to Jingle Bells?”

“No, she is,” Winston confirmed. 

“Jingle bells, jingle…” Jess trailed off and let her hands fall to her sides as she watched Mr. Grumpy’s scowl deepen. “Uh, okay, well…I’ll just go over there then.” She edged sideways, and could have sworn she heard him mutter “despite what just happened” as he handed her signed form to a pimply teenage assistant.

Jess followed the teenager across the room, pausing only long enough to turn and give the guys a thumbs up. “We get outfits!”

Schmidt slid his application across the table and leaned in. “What job can I do that has the least amount of interaction with, you know…children?” he asked, his lip curling slightly in distaste.

“You can be an elf.”

“No, you misunderstand me. I mean, what can I be besides an elf? Preferably a job that involved standing at least 100 yards away from the pint-sized germ bags.”

The guy pushed a paper across the table. “Sign here, and then go over there to get fitted for your elf costume.”

“Ugh,” Schmidt groaned. He glanced at the smirk that Nick was giving him. “Oh, what? I’d like to see you try it.”

Nick stepped up. “Actually, sir, I _was_ wondering if there were any other –“

“You’re an elf,” the guy said, giving him a quick once over. “Take it or leave it.”

Nick glared at him as he took the paper and signed his name with angry strokes.

“Shut up,” he muttered to Schmidt as they stepped aside to let Winston approach the table.

“Hi, I’m Winston.”

Mr. Grumpy took his application. “You can be a reindeer. Make sure they measure your head for the antlers.”

Winston frowned and glanced at Nick. “Is that racist?” he murmured. “I’m pretty sure that’s racist.”

“Why can’t I be a reindeer?” Nick whined.

“Because ya look like an elf. Now get over there and get fitted for your elf costume, elf.”

Schmidt sniggered. “He said you look like an elf.”

“Shut. Up.”

Jess was waving them over enthusiastically from across the room.

“C’mon, guys,” Winston said with a proud smirk. “I’ll lead the way.”

Across the room, a surly looking chick whose nametag said “Gina” was measuring people and handing out elf hats, striped socks, and green felt vests. 

“What name should I put on your nametag?” she asked flatly.

“Jess.”

“It has to be an elf name.”

“Ohhhh, okay! Well then, how about…Meriweather Jujubee Crumpet McTwinkles.”

“It has to fit on the nametag,” Gina sighed, rolling her eyes as she wrote down _Crumpet_. “Next.”

Schmidt stepped up, flexing his biceps as she measured his arms. “Are you sure I’ll be able to fit into one of those elf costumes? I’ll bet you don’t see guns like these every day at the North Pole, huh?”

Gina gave him a blank stare. “We just give you the vest. You can wear whatever shirt you want, as long as it’s red.”

“Oh yeah? Well good luck trying to find a red shirt that will contain these bad boys. I mean, I’ll give it a try, but don’t blame me if I have to go sleeveless.”

“Uh huh.” She finished her measurements and handed him a hat and vest. “What name should I put on your nametag?”

“Schmidt.”

“It has to be an elf name.”

“Schmitty the Elf.”

Gina thought about it for a second, shrugged, and wrote down _Schmitty the Elf_.

***

“Jess isn’t a very elf-like name.”

Jess had been lost in thought as she waited for the others to finish getting measured and hadn’t noticed the approach of the attractive stranger who now stood in front of her. She gave him a puzzled frown, then remembered about the name spelled out in glitter on her hat. She touched it self-consciously. 

“Oh, Jess is just my regular name. My elf name’s actually Crumpet.”

He gave a rich and hearty laugh. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Crumpet.”

Jess smiled at him while trying not to lose himself in his gorgeous blue eyes, or be too entranced by his wavy dark hair and perfect teeth.

“This your first year working here?”

“Yep, and I’m really excited. I’m actually a teacher, but I got fired, but then I got another job, but I figured I could use some extra cash and this is probably better than Hooters.” She flushed bright red as she felt his eyes drop instinctively toward her chest. “Plus, I really like candy canes. I eat them all the time, even when it’s not Christmas. Some people say I eat them too much, but I say there’s no such thing!” She cringed inwardly. Sometimes she just didn’t know when to stop.

He laughed, the melodious sound making feel slightly better about her nervous ramblings. 

It did seem – luckily – that most guys found her wandering, stream-of-thought tangents charming, even when she ended up wanting to shove her entire fist in her mouth to make herself shut up (which she could totally do).

“Well, I say there’s no such thing as too many candy canes, even when it’s _not_ Christmas,” her new friend said cheerfully.

She smiled at him, trying to think of some Christmas-related way to ask for his number, when she was interrupted by Nick storming out of the room.

“Jess, this is the _worst_ idea you have _ever_ had.”

“What?” she asked, trying to convey with widened eyes and exaggerated blinking that she was _kind of in the middle of something here_.

Nick ignored her crazy eyes and plowed ahead. “Did you know that we need _elf_ names?”

“Yes. I’m Crumpet!”

“Well, Winston here thinks he’s soooo funny…”

Winston snorted behind his hand. “I told them his elf name is Jingleberry,” he said through his giggles.

“And she wrote it down! And then she wouldn’t let me change it to Ralph like I asked her to!”

“That’s because Ralph is a terrible name for an elf,” Schmidt interjected.

“No it’s not! Ralph the Elf! Come on, that’s perfect!”

“It does sound like you put a lot of thought into that,” Jess observed seriously. “Maybe you really are starting to get into the festive spirit!”

“Yeah, well, unfortunately I’m pretty sure being named _Jingleberry_ has ruined any hope of that.”

Winston snorted again, his whole body shaking with repressed laughter. 

“What’s your reindeer name, Winston?” Jess asked.

“What? Oh, I’m Vixen,” Winston answered with a beaming smile.

Schmidt clapped him on the shoulder. “Yes you are, Winston, yes you are.”

***

“I look _ridiculous_ ,” Nick said, the tiny bell jingling as he stomped out into the living room.

“You look fine, Jingleberry,” Winston said, adjusting his antlers.

“STOP CALLING ME THAT!” 

Jess grinned around the candy cane that she was working on. This had been going on all week, and it was still funny every time.

“ _Damn_ , I look _fine_ ,” Schmidt said, walking out of his bedroom. Jess almost choked on her candy cane at the sight. “I made a few modifications to the costume, what do you think?”

“I think you might have gotten your application confused with the new gay Christmas club, the North **Pole** , _if ya know what I mean_ ,” Jess said. 

“This club has _everything_ ,” Winston added, counting off on his fingers. “Jingleberries, gay Jewish elves, bleindeer – black reindeer…”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that when they said you could wear any red shirt, they weren’t expecting you to show up in sleeveless mesh.”

Schmidt glared at Nick. “Whatever, I can’t help it if you’re jealous of my style.” Jess handed him a candy cane. He looked at her. “Jess, how many freaking candy canes have you eaten today?

“I don’t know. My teeth hurt.”

“You’re cut off. Now come, my fellow denizens of Santa’s workshop. Let’s go rock this.”

***

The first person they saw when they approached the festively decked out Santa Meet ‘n Greet location was the man himself.

“Well, HO HO HELLOOOO, Crumpet!” Santa boomed.

Jess gave him a small curtsey, not exactly sure what the etiquette was for elf-Santa interactions. Then she realized that she hadn’t yet pinned her nametag onto her vest. 

“Wait, how does Santa know my name?” Jess asked Winston out of the corner of her mouth.

Santa winked at her, and she noticed that he had lovely blue eyes. Then he took a step forward, tugged down his beard and said, “It’s me, Josh. Remember, we talked last week when you handed in your application?”

“Oh! Right! I…wow. You’re…Santa. I just, I, um…thought you were an elf…not that you look like an elf, I mean, of course you’re Santa.” Jess was babbling again. Well, this put a whole new perspective on elf-Santa interactions.

“Well, I’d better go get set,” Santa – er, Josh said. “Don’t forget to come sit on my lap later and tell me what you want me to give you for Christmas,” he said with a wink.

Jess blushed and stammered, “Oh, um, okay…”

“I’m kidding. But seriously, you and your friends should come by the workshop when we’re finished –“ he nodded toward a small Christmas-themed playhouse off to the side that said _Santa’s Workshop_ in red and green lettering. “I hear there’s going to be some spiked hot cocoa with our names on it.”

Jess nodded and got the hell out of there, dragging Winston over toward Schmidt, who was talking to their old friend, Mr. Grumpy. To her surprise, Mr. Grumpy was dressed rather convincingly as an elf, albeit a rather surly-looking one. 

“As a matter of fact, I am an _excellent_ gift-wrapper,” Schmidt was saying. “My corners are immaculate. The key is to tighten, and tuck. Tighten, and tuck.” 

“Fine,” Mr. Grumpy muttered, pointing toward another table. “Sit over there, and don’t fuck it up.”

“Yes sir, I won’t sir,” Schmidt promised, his face lit up with glee. “Jess! I got assigned to the gift-wrapping table! Look how far it is from the children!” His eyes flicked past Jess for a second and his expression changed. “Is that Cece? You didn’t tell me Cece was going to be working here. Why didn’t you tell me Cece was going to be working here?”

“I just found out this morning. She’s the photographer’s assistant.”

“Hey Cece,” Schmidt called, walking toward her. “I’ll smile if you wave that little rattle at me!”

Jess sighed and shook her head, then remembered she had larger issues to deal with at the moment. Winston was being called over with the other reindeer to get their assignments, so she turned to Nick and clutched his arm.

“He’s Santa!”

Nick gave her a look. “Yeah, Jess, it’s Santa. Who were you expecting, Bilbo Baggins?”

“No, I mean, the guy I have a crush on is _Santa_.”

Nick glanced toward Santa’s chair and understanding dawned. “Ahhh. No lowly little elf for you, eh, Crumpet? You go straight for the big guy.” 

“What do I _do_? I can’t ask him out. I can’t imagine, like, _making out_ with Santa! This is so wrong,” she groaned.

Her inner turmoil was interrupted by someone calling, “Elves! Places!”

“Gotta go, Jess. Don’t spend the entire time thinking about what’s waiting for you under that Santa suit…” Nick laughed and dodged her attempted, un-elflike slap, as the sound of children filled the air.

***

Eight hours later, when the children were gone and the fluorescent lights dimmed for the evening, they ducked into the low door of Santa’s Workshop and collapsed, exhausted, on two low benches set against the plastic walls.

The day had gone well. Winston had galloped around the mall handing out invitations to Meet and Greet Santa and to spend $75 on a photo while they were at it. Cece had gotten approximately 51% of children to actually smile for said photos, which might have been a record for mall Santas everywhere. A long line of suburban housewives had complimented Schmidt on both his wrapping prowess _and_ his mesh shirt. Nick had discovered a hidden festive streak and appropriated Jess’s Jingle Bells/Gangnam Style mash-up, sending children into hysterics – hell, even Mr. Grumpy had cracked a smile. 

And Jess, well. She loved entertaining children almost as much as she loved being surrounded by sparkling lights and fake snow and listening to the same seventeen Christmas carols over and over on a loop. But watching her friends enjoy themselves despite their protests was what really filled her with joy. A few times she’d spaced out watching them, her cheeks aching with her smile as she watched Nick’s rather painful-looking dance moves – usually until a kid brought her back to reality by tugging on her arm and saying “Hey, Elf! What can _you_ do?” And that, she thought, was really the best part – well, that and the candy canes.

“Here ya go, Crumpet,” Nick said, interrupting her thoughts to hand her a cup of steaming hot cocoa, spiked with peppermint schnapps. 

“How was your first day as an elf?” asked Santa-Josh.

“It was glorious!” She still hadn’t decided if she’d be able to stop thinking of him as Santa long enough to do anything about her crush.

“Better than Hooters?”

“Way better,” she said – and, if she was being honest, having Santa stare at her breasts really _wasn’t_ as uncomfortable as she’d thought it would be. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

She grabbed the peppermint schnapps out of Winston’s hand and poured another shot into her mug. “Now, let’s all get Christmas drunk and raid Build-A-Bear!”

*The End*


End file.
